


the world stops turning for us

by kythen



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, basically post-christmas fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 10:52:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5583046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kythen/pseuds/kythen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(we've got all the time in the world)</p><p>Post-Christmas lazy days. Daichi isn't exactly sure when he started living out his entire life with Kuroo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the world stops turning for us

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Birthday, Daichi!
> 
> -pops confetti- -throws champagne-
> 
> wait

_Dec 26_

When Daichi wakes, it is to a massive headache and Kuroo curled around him, a leg thrown over his hip, his arms clinging tight around his chest. Only half-conscious, Daichi tries to shift, a groan sounding from the back of his throat at the pain throbbing in his head. There is a thin shaft of sunlight, slicing past the gap between their curtains to stab at his eyes and he needs to get his face out of that line of fire.

He starts with Kuroo's arms, peeling them away one heavy weight at a time, before wriggling out from beneath the leg pinning him down. By the time he's done, Daichi is fully awake and he sits up on the bed, glumly bemoaning the loss of the morning-sleepy feeling that he had just a while ago. Idly, his hand lands on Kuroo's head, ruffling the half-formed spikes there that would later make a spectacular bedhead, amusing himself with the way Kuroo bats at his hands without waking up.

Christmas had been a mess yesterday with the collective members of Karasuno and Nekoma coming over to their place to celebrate. The festive cheer had been through the roof, but so had the noise level and the general level of chaos that came from putting two teams with a history as both friends _and_ rivals in the same space. It had simultaneously been the worst and best idea Kuroo had put forth.

In the wake of yesterday, Daichi doesn't really want to get up and face the rest of their apartment, which is probably wrecked beyond recognition. He considers slipping back under the covers, closing his eyes and pretending to sleep until he actually falls asleep again. But responsibility wins out in the end, which finds him leaving the warm, sleepy cocoon of the bed and Kuroo.

The floor is cold when Daichi presses his bare soles against it and he hisses through his teeth as he stands. He pulls on the first pair of pants he finds lying around, worn and soft from too many times in the wash, and a sweater that smells faintly of Kuroo, also worn and soft, the ends of the sleeves brushing against his knuckles. He takes one last longing look at the bed, where Kuroo's bedhead is slowly getting swallowed under the mound of pillows and blankets, before leaving the room.

Daichi goes to the bathroom first, then the kitchen, avoiding the disaster area that is the living room. It is the day after Christmas, which must mean that he is entitled to some degree of denial so he'll leave that to later, or to Kuroo. For now, he surveys the mess in their kitchen, where there are plates stacked haphazardly on the counter and the glasses are forming an army of their own inside the sink.

It honestly isn't as bad as he thought it would be. At least nothing looks broken and nothing seems to have caught fire, which is a win in Daichi's eyes, considering the potentially lethal assortment of characters they had let into their apartment. He rolls his sleeves up and sinks elbow-deep into soapy water as he scrubs at dish after dish, staring out of the window absently, watching the golden glow of morning brighten into the white heat of noon.

After the dishes are done, Daichi wanders out into the living room, his toes brushing against the wrapping paper strewn all over the floor as he makes his way to the sofa and falls onto it face-first. He'll clean it all up eventually but for now he needs a short rest, seeing that his head still feels like someone stuffed cotton wool in it. Daichi blinks, trying to clear it all out, and the blinks get longer and longer until he stops opening his eyes at all.

"Why are you up?" Daichi suddenly wakes to a voice in his ear. There are knees are on either side of him, but Kuroo is careful not to rest his entire weight on him, even as his hands slide around his waist and a sleepy head rests against his shoulder, ruffled hair tickling his neck.

"Someone has to make this place liveable again after what went down yesterday," Daichi mumbles into the sofa.

Kuroo is warm against his back, stuck fast like a living carapace, and Daichi can feel every breath he takes, slow and measured, as he half-drowses against Daichi's shoulder. "You're too responsible sometimes, Daichi. It's the day after Christmas. You're supposed to be taking things slow."

The weight on his back disappears as Kuroo gets off him and Daichi hears feet padding away in the direction of the kitchen. He doesn't think much of the banging and beeping sounds coming from the kitchen until Kuroo returns, bringing with him a delicious smell. He opens his eyes to Kuroo putting two plates of sandwiches, stuffed full of what looks like leftover turkey on the table in front of him, and rises into a sitting position almost instinctively.

"We're going to be taking things slow today," Kuroo declares as Daichi reaches for one of the sandwiches. "None of this 'responsibility' bullshit."

"Sure," Daichi says around a mouthful of bread and turkey. "That is, until one of us ends up slipping on wrapping paper."

"That's why we're going to take precautionary measures. We're not going to leave the sofa."

That does sound like a convincing plan and Daichi finds himself nodding in agreement, sinking further back into the sofa to become one with the cushions. Kuroo disappears again, this time into their bedroom, reappearing with his arms bundled full of blankets and pillows. This is one of Kuroo's better ideas, where Kuroo throws one half of the blanket over Daichi and crawls under the other half, pressing close to him.

When Kuroo reaches for the television remote, Daichi feels the line of muscles from his chest to thigh shift against him. It grounds him, keeping him safely anchored even as he drifts off into sleep, surrounded by a nest of pillows and blankets. He feels hands taking his empty plate from him, smoothing down the side of his head as he leans into Kuroo's shoulder and falls asleep again.

\---

_Dec 27_

Kuroo sits at the coffee table in the middle of their living room, frowning at the laptop in front of him, and Daichi has to step around him every time he goes by with the vacuum cleaner or mop in hand. On his last trip past him, Kuroo drops his head down on the table surface with a resounding thunk and Daichi pats his head in sympathy.

Kuroo turns into his touch, his eyes snapping up to look at Daichi. "Why aren't you at work today?"

"The management wanted me to use up all my vacation days before the year ended." Daichi shrugs.

"Good. That means you're free to help me with my work." Kuroo straightens up and Daichi's hand falls off his head, his fingers catching in some of the knots in his hair and making Kuroo wince. "Come here?"

Daichi raises an eyebrow. "Where exactly?"

He should have known Kuroo would take that as a challenge, reaching up to pull Daichi down by the arm. He goes without much of a fight and Kuroo settles him down in the space between his legs, circling his arms around him and trapping Daichi between him and the coffee table. Kuroo rests his chin on his shoulder and Daichi can feel the smugness radiating from him.

"What am I supposed to be doing?" Daichi taps at the keyboard before him, eyeing the word document on the screen which is almost blank except for the word "The" sitting grandly on the first line.

"Well, I'm working on this article and you're here to stop me from freezing while I do that." Kuroo leans into him, his chest pressed flush against Daichi's back.

"So I'm a heater now."

"I'm getting cold just sitting here and you're _warm_."

"I could get you a blanket," Daichi offers.

"Shh. I'm concentrating." Kuroo reaches past him for the mouse, switching to the Internet and scanning through the multiple tabs squeezed on top of the toolbar.

After ten minutes of this, Daichi gets bored. He pulls out his phone from the pocket of his pants, easing himself into the chair that Kuroo makes around him. He stretches his legs out under the table, slumping back against the solid press of Kuroo, and opens his social media accounts systematically. It's been a while since he last checked them and it's a long list to scroll through.

He's about halfway through Twitter when Kuroo digs his chin into his shoulder and says, "That's distracting."

"Then don't get distracted," Daichi answers, scanning through month-old tweets. "When's the deadline for this?"

"Before the new year."

"Keep typing." Daichi hums and slouches down further, making himself comfortable.

Kuroo sighs, the long, drawn-out breath ruffling the hair on the top of Daichi's head as he turns his attention back to his laptop.

\---

_Dec 28_

Today is a volleyball day, which means that they gather whoever's available to play back-to-back matches late into the dead of the night. Daichi has no idea why the collective members of their volleyball circle had decided to meet on a Monday this time, where chances were that only the free or the most hardcore would show up.

When Kuroo and him arrive at the usual court, he's surprised to see he's wrong and that almost everybody is there, from Karasuno to Nekoma to Fukurodani. Kuroo leaves his side to go pester Kenma and Daichi wanders off into the middle of the Karasuno gang.

"Sawamura!" Bokuto calls him over. In all the years Daichi has known him, Bokuto has yet to ever find his indoor voice and his voice booms through the enclosed space of the gym like a very excited thunderclap.

Kuroo is standing next to Bokuto when Daichi makes his way over, which suddenly makes Daichi very suspicious because he knows from experience that nothing good ever comes out of putting Kuroo and Bokuto together.

"So Kuroo and I were saying that since we have so many people here today we should do something fun!" Bokuto launches into an explanation as soon as Daichi is within earshot.

"Yeah?" Daichi says, shooting a quick glance over at Kuroo, who only smiles benignly back at him.

"Remember the summer training camp?" Bokuto asks. "We were thinking that we could do that again, like team against team."

"And the losers get penalties," Kuroo adds.

"Like what?"

"Flying falls, of course." Kuroo's smile widens into the cat smirk Daichi is all too familiar with and he recognises the obvious taunt behind it. "How could you forget, Sawamura-kun?"

"You're on, Kuroo," Daichi retorts, Kuroo's family name feeling strange on his tongue, when he's used to calling him "Tetsurou" and hearing "Daichi" in response. He's almost forgotten how it was back then when there was nothing more than rivalry, plain and simple, between them.

The three of them split apart, collecting members of their respective schools and gathering them up into teams. Normally, volleyball days were casual, where teams and positions were flexible, depending on the assortment of people who showed up at the gym that day. But today, the gym buzzes with an unusual energy after Bokuto's suggestion spreads through the players.

The first up is Nekoma and Fukurodani. There is something so natural about the way Kuroo and Bokuto step up to the net, pulling out all their old insults about cats and owls and each other's hair before they start the game. Daichi can see the grins wide on their faces as they turn away from each other and their teammates follow suit, falling back into old routines built up over days in the sun.

This must be what déjà vu feels like, when winter feels like summer all over again and all the years that have passed fall away to the pounding of feet against the volleyball court. When it is Karasuno's turn, nearly all of them run onto court to take Fukurodani's place, burning eager to start the match. Daichi thinks Hinata might actually explode from all the excitement building up in him and Kageyama's face is showing all sorts of weird expressions which must mean that he's just as excited as Hinata.

"Are you ready, Sawamura?" Kuroo says from the other side of the net. He's breathing heavily after the match and a round of flying falls, the neck of his shirt already dark with perspiration.

"Are you sure you aren't too tired from losing to Fukurodani? Those flying falls must have been tough," Daichi shoots back.

The smile on Kuroo's face only sharpens in response. "You would know, seeing that you're the resident flying falls expert."

That match flies past in a blur, as do the rest of the matches. Each team sets a rapid pace to get them back on court quicker, switching members so that everyone gets to play. Fukurodani dominates the matches, scratching out win after win on a makeshift scorecard someone had drawn on the back of a flyer, while the win-lose balance between Karasuno and Nekoma tethers wildly in either team's favour.

When Karasuno is up against Nekoma again, Suga sets the ball and it flies off the tips of his fingers in Daichi's direction. Daichi knows he doesn't do this as much as the other wing spikers on their team but when he leaps into the air, Kuroo is there to meet him with his fingers outstretched and palms wide above his head. The ball slams into the solid wall of his hands and Daichi lands, running back for another try. Kuroo's eyes find him across the net as they dart away and the rush of exhilaration on Kuroo's face matches his perfectly.

A memory runs through Daichi's head, even as his body prepares for an attack, reminding him of the first time they had found each other after graduating from high school, on the same side of the net in university. There are other memories too, built up over the years following that, like the first time Kuroo had looked at him like he wanted him and blurted out the worst pick-up line he had ever heard in his life.

Kuroo had said something like "I scraped my knee falling for you" after losing to the sidewalk in the middle of winter, something like hope blooming in his eyes as he looked back up at Daichi. It was silly then, and it still is now when Daichi reminds Kuroo about it, but deep down Daichi understands just how Kuroo feels when he has scraped himself raw falling for Kuroo so many times since then.

With the polished wood of the volleyball court under their feet, it is almost like they are young and eighteen again with wings at their backs and the sky at their fingertips. When Daichi had looked back at Kuroo then, who had been awkward and so terribly _embarrassing_ , he remembers that his heart had beat as quick as a hummingbird's wing in his chest, trapped there until he realised just what he was feeling for Kuroo.

Now that they are twenty-six, that feeling still hasn't gone away but stays a low hum thrumming under his skin. It beats out a staccato rhythm of _I love you so, so much_ every time Kuroo leans in close to breathe his name against his skin, or fits the gentle curve of his mouth to his pulse, or even just smiles at him in the morning when Daichi leaves for work and Kuroo blinks at him, sleep-bleary but awake enough to kiss him goodbye.

At the end of the day, when all the matches are over, Kuroo's hand finds his under the net and it never does quite leave him, even on the way back home, when it is way past midnight and the blood in their veins is still singing with adrenaline from the time spent on the volleyball court.

\---

_Dec 29_

"Where are you going?"

Daichi tugs a sweater on, locating his wallet and putting it in his pocket. "The supermarket. We're out of food."

Kuroo squints back at him from the bed. He's in the same position that Daichi had dropped him in after finding him passed out on the coffee table that afternoon, his laptop open in front of him. "Wait, I'll come with you."

"You don't have to," Daichi says, even as Kuroo crawls out from under the blankets and slips to the floor, unsteady on his feet as he pads around the room.

"I want to," Kuroo tells him, pulling a jacket on. He runs a hand through his hair, trying to neaten the crow's nest he had picked up during his short nap.

After watching him battle with his hair for a while, Daichi steps forward, exasperated, and combs his fringe to the side, giving up entirely on the rest of his head. He grabs his keys and Kuroo follows him out of the door like a shadow at his back.

To say it is cold outside is an understatement and Daichi immediately regrets not wearing something thicker. Kuroo clutches at his hand, his fingers ice-cold and shaking, and stuffs both their hands into the pocket of his jacket. They end up going to the supermarket at a half-jog, Kuroo nearly tripping Daichi up a few times along the way when he huddles too close.

"What do we need to get?" Kuroo asks as soon as they step through the automatic doors, peering over Daichi's shoulder at the list on his phone.

"Nearly everything." They had been living off leftovers and takeaways for the past few days after Christmas and when Daichi had checked their fridge this morning, it had been sadly bare.

It is quiet, mindless work as they move through the aisles, going through Daichi's list one item at a time. Kuroo isn't fully awake yet and Daichi catches him yawning out of the corner of his eye, the usual sense of sharpness he gets from Kuroo dulled by sleep. It also means that Daichi has to catch the elbow of his sleeve and pull him along when he wants to move on, steering Kuroo around the corner of a shelf with a nudge of his shoulder.

Kuroo leans his weight into him just as Daichi reaches up to grab something off the top shelf and it pushes him back flat onto his feet. Annoyed, he tries again, stretching his arm up. Kuroo suddenly gets heavier and Daichi's fingers just brush the surface of a cardboard box before he is forced back down onto the floor.

"Having trouble, Daichi?" Kuroo asks him, all innocence.

"Yes." Daichi pushes at his shoulder, trying to get him off.

But Kuroo is stuck fast, stubbornly so, until Daichi digs his fingers into his side in revenge and Kuroo squirms away automatically, his body curving in a bow away from Daichi. Quickly, Daichi reaches for the box of cereal and dumps it into their shopping cart before Kuroo comes slinking back.

"You play dirty," Kuroo accuses, one hand covering his side like he expects Daichi to attack him again.

"You started it," Daichi retorts.

"I thought it'd be cute to see you trying to reach the top shelf."

"I _can_ reach the top shelf."

"Yeah, but you have to stretch to do it and it's kind of cute."

Despite himself, Daichi feels the colour rise to his cheeks. A smile spreads across Kuroo's face as he observes Daichi, looking ridiculously proud of himself. "Don't be an ass just because you're a bit taller than me."

"A bit?" Kuroo starts and Daichi smacks his palm over his mouth before he can continue.

"You can get the next item off the top shelf," Daichi tells him as they move to the next aisle.

\---

_Dec 30/31_

Kuroo has been fidgety the whole day and Daichi knows the exact reason why, even though he pretends not to. He pretends not to notice when Kuroo pokes a head into their kitchen or study room or wherever Daichi goes, as if he's making sure that Daichi is still at home. As the hour hand on the clock ticks towards ten, eleven, and finally twelve, Daichi pushes himself away from the coffee table, closes the laptop in front of him and braces himself.

Right on cue, he hears the soft footsteps of someone trying to sneak up on him, which would have gone unnoticed if he hadn't been listening for them. Hands snake around his shoulders and Daichi obliges when they turn him around to face Kuroo.

"Happy birthday, Daichi," Kuroo says, pressing a neatly wrapped present against his chest, with nothing more than a small smile on his face, like he hasn't been creeping around for the entire day on edge.

Daichi takes the present from him, turning it over in his hands and examining every bump in it as Kuroo looks on expectantly. This is something that happens every year and logically Daichi should be used to it, but he can't stop the smile that tugs at his lips, hopelessly fond.

"Thank you." He leans in to brush a kiss against the corner of Kuroo's mouth, pulling away in time to catch the delight that blooms bright on Kuroo's face.

His hands are careful as he rips through the wrapping paper, which he recognises as the excess they had from Christmas. He already knows what it is from the feel of it under his fingers and he isn't really all that surprised at the pair of knee pads that fall into his lap, a better and more expensive brand than his old ones.

Since they started playing volleyball less as real life responsibilities caught up, Daichi hadn't really seen the need to replace his old knee pads and they had been gradually wearing down into a mass of stretched out elastic. This is the type of gift he prefers to receive, simple and practical, a bonus if it was volleyball related, which is something Kuroo had quickly learned over the first few years with him.

As Daichi runs his fingers over them, he realises that there is something at the bottom corner of each knee pad, barely standing out against the black elastic. It feels almost like embroidery under his thumb and when he brings it up close, he realises that it is a tiny paw print, sewn in with black thread.

"Do you like it?" Kuroo asks, his smile widening into a grin as he realises what Daichi is looking at.

"Cute," Daichi says, amused. "I didn't know you could actually sew."

"I am a man of many talents," Kuroo says, sidling up close. His hand is warm on Daichi's thigh as he casually adds, "You know, Daichi, if that's not enough, you can always have your other present."

"What other—" Daichi catches himself in time as the look on Kuroo's face turns downright devious. Some things just don't change, like terrible pick-up lines and cat smirks, and Daichi groans, pressing a hand against his face. "God, you're embarrassing."

"I am, but you _like_ me for it. Technically, that makes you more embarrassing."

Daichi has half a mind to jab him in the side if only to stop them both from spiralling down this cycle of embarrassment, but then Kuroo spreads his arms wide, beckoning to him, and Daichi changes his mind. He leans into him, putting the knee pads to one side, and Kuroo's hands fall onto the small of his back, drawing him close as he tilts his face up to meet Kuroo.

\---

_Jan 1_

In the morning, Daichi wakes, bundled tight under the blankets to ward off the cold. When he reaches a hand out, the tips of his fingers brush against skin, warm with sleep, and he inches closer. He hasn't opened his eyes yet, gravitating towards Kuroo by touch alone to bury his face in the curve of his neck.

"Tetsurou," he murmurs, breathing into the delicate skin there.

There is no response from Kuroo, apart from the muffled snore that filters through his pillow. Daichi opens his eyes, blinking sleepily, as he shifts closer and tries again. "Tetsurou."

His movement dislodges the blankets and it slips off to reveal Kuroo's shoulder, the wide expanse of skin there littered with bite marks Daichi knows will match the fit of his teeth. He doesn't need to look to know that his neck is probably in a similar state, with the way Kuroo had been sucking bruises into his skin last night.

"Tetsurou." Daichi nudges at Kuroo with his forehead, headbutting him lightly until he finally stirs.

"What?" Kuroo lifts his head just slightly and Daichi stretches up to place a kiss on his lips.

"Happy new year, Tetsurou."

"Happy new year, Daichi," Kuroo echoes, his words an incoherent mess in his mouth as he turns over and throws an arm over Daichi, dropping back into sleep so fast that Daichi isn't sure Kuroo had even woken up.

This morning, there isn't anything Daichi needs to get out of bed for and he is content with just lying here for a while longer, with the curtains pulled shut over the windows, sunlight splayed out over the edges but never quite reaching the bed. Kuroo's arm traps him in place against the sheets, easily removable if he wanted to, but Daichi leaves it be. The morning haze still hangs heavy over his eyes and he closes them, soaking in the warmth of the bed and blankets and Kuroo pooling around him as he lets himself drift back to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> ([tumblr](http://kythen.tumblr.com) / [twitter](http://twitter.com/catcrowcalls))


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